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by just_an_other_wannabe_writer



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Badass Arya, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, I love Arya so it might feel like the story centers around her sometimes, I love Jon too though, Jealousy, Swordfighting, terrible at tags, winter is here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_an_other_wannabe_writer/pseuds/just_an_other_wannabe_writer
Summary: The story starts right after season 7 episode 2 when Arya finds Nymeria.Arya reunites with Jon earlier than on TV, wich leads to many changes.





	1. All the things i miss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people, this is my first fic and I'm pretty exited whether you like it or not. I loved the show but some moments had me cringe and dream about what could have happened, so here we go. Enjoy! Or not, just tell me what you think <3

ARYA

The sun was slowly saying farewell to let the moon arise. It left space for a spectacular pink sky she had not seen in what seemed years. Since her lord father’s beheading she had always ever just seen a grey sky, but now it was pink. Sansa would have loved it. Was it a sign of the gods that the times would get brighter for her now? Had they finally answered her prayers and granted her some happiness?

She was past Moat Cailin near White Harbor. After seeing Nymeria again after so many years she wasn’t sure how many, she felt her blood run hot in her veins. Even though she understood why her lost direwolf would not come back north with her: the northern wolf was wild just like herself and should remain free just like she herself had always wanted to be. Nevertheless, she felt a single tear slide from her wet right eye towards her burning cheek. It hurt, a lot. To be so close to something like family since Gendry and having to let it go once again, like Gendry.

Her encounter with the numerous wolfs in her direwolf’s pack had also taught her that it was no longer safe to sleep in woods alone at night. Since the past day and night, she had ridden without daring stopping if not only to water her horse, maybe it was longer she did not really care. Yet when she realised she had past Moat Cailin she became aware of the monstrous way she was treating her horse. She was not likely to make it to her family, Jon, in Winterfell if her horse was to die.

She decided to stop near White Harbor and find an inn that wasn’t too expensive to sleep in, maybe she could sleep somewhere in the woods where she deemed likely that wild animals would not eat her in her sleep.

She rushed her horse to galop faster, having the feeling that she had to get there soon, she couldn’t explain the feeling to herself. But she had to remember her horse and decided to slow down a little.

Arya then, having a steady pace which allowed her to relax, remembered the conversation with hot pie at the inn at the crossroads. Jon was alive! She should have known. Of course he had survived all of this. He was a man of the nights watch, or had been, which meant he set his family aside when we swore his oath and the wicked Lannisters could not harm him at castle black. Believing Jon was alive seemed near to logical, assuming he was strong enough to not get killed by a wildling. But the second part, him having won a battle of bastards or something like that, and now being King in the North was like a dream to Arya. Maybe he would die right before she got to him.

Just like Robb then? When did this all happen? Right after the red wedding? As revenge for the slaughtering of so many northmen including her Lady mother and her king of a brother? No, she had not left Westeros for some time after the Red Wedding, she would have heard about it. But it must have been out of revenge, the whole battle, why else? 

Winterfell might have been her brother’s home as a child, and understandably he could be emotionally attached to it, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that her ever so honourable brother had broken his sacred vows to the men of the nights watch, for revenge. These men were supposed to be his brothers. It could not have been out of revenge then, but what had moved him to risk being beheaded as a deserter? She ever truly loved her brother, but the truth is, he was a bastard. He could not know the northern lords would stand beside him, most of them would not recognise him as Eddard Stark’s son! They would not support him as a snow, but yet, he won the battle what means, he had an army.

There were still so many unanswered questions Arya was eager to have answered, more and more with every passing minute. But one made them all vanish into thin air, put them all in the shadow: What if Jon was not her only sibling that had survived? With a trueborn Stark they could have gotten the most loyal northern houses’ support.

But that could not be. Robb was killed by those traitor of Freys, Bran and Rickon were burned by that traitor of a Greyjoy, Sansa had quite possibly been raped before having her throat sliced in the streets after no longer having her dear Lannisters to protect her, since she was said to have killed Joffrey.

Arya grew sad, she would have liked to kill that cunt herself before the eyes of that bitch Cersei, and then turning to her and killing that whore in the most horrible way she could imagine. She could imagine a lot. 

Maybe Bran or Rickon, or even both had somehow escaped the ironborns, maybe that Theon cunt had some kind of pity for her poor brothers and had made one good decision in his life by letting them go, but that was not possible, their tiny bodies, she was told, were hanging burnt unrecognisable from Winterfell’s walls. But then again, they were unrecognisable. Perhaps her lady sister would surprise her by surviving, although Arya thought she was far too sweet to survive anything outside a castle.

She shook the dreamy thoughts aside, all of that was clearly delusional, impossible, hurting knowing it could not be true. How she missed her siblings, her family. What she would give to try and show Bran what good of a knight she could become if she were a boy as well, and dreaming with him of becoming one, to see his dreamy smile once more, and to hear mother complaining about his climbing yet again.

What she would give to be able to hold little Rickon tight in her arms, comforting him after one of his nightmares, to look into those big loving eyes of his. 

What she would give to even have a fight about propriety with Sansa, hell she would even be happy to hear her sister call her underfoot or horseface just once more, she would do everything to see her face in something else than her memory, even if it was her arrogant smile, to hear her singing of those stupid maiden fair.  
What she would give to see Robb act the man he was not yet and have him bring her to bed when she had gotten in trouble and mother was too tired to deal with her. To see him burst into laughter because of a stupid joke she did not understand, how she would have loved to meet his son, her nephew, she is sure she would have loved his wife.

She would never see any of them ever again, maybe when she joined them in the earth, but not before.

What Arya missed most was still Jon, she would give anything, more than anything to have him muss her hair, to feel him sweetly kiss her brow as he used to in his protective manner, to see herself in his grey eyes that mirrored hers, to breath his sent of snow, smoke and pine needles, to smell home as he hugged her, just like when they parted so many years ago. That seemed like a lifetime ago, like another life, like a life she had once known but had let go of when she trained to become a faceless man.

Jon she would see again, she would ride back to Winterfell before dawn and feel him against her once again, she would breath the north is his hair as she did in the past, just like she scarcely dared to dream in Bravos.

***  
Arya could now smell the ocean, she was nearly at White Harbor, and when her eyes looked up, they met the once pink sky and she decided to stop, seeing that the pink was no more, and the day was gone to let the night have her part in life. Soon she felt her eyes grow tired of having to remain opened so she decided she would not make it to the inn. 

She suddenly felt the last days in which she had not slept at all or for just a couple of hours. The moon was high above her head and her legs hurt terribly, more even than her ass. She decided it was enough. She swung down her horse and attached it to the nearest tree. She took down a thick linen fabric to sleep on so that something may be between her and the frozen ground. 

Arya assembled some wood and stones for a fire but while picking up another stick she heard laughter, distant sure, but that fact did not make her less uneasy. She put down what she had just collected, in favour of putting her consciousness at rest by investigating the noises she heard. The closer the wild girl go to the source, the clearer it became that it was more than a few men, they were laughing, some probably drunk. When she reached the edge of higher ground she realised there were at least 30 men in the camp she was observing. A few seconds later she noted the Direwolf sigil of house Stark on a flag in the middle of the encampment and on the biggest of the tents. This cannot be! Are these Jon’s men? Is he close? Is he here? She was lying with her stomach on the ground now, to not be discovered. She studied every of the faces she could see, all were obviously soldiers and some knights, but none she could recognise from her childhood. This was to be expected since all the knights and guards she ever knew were killed by the Lannister in Kings Landing or in Robb’s war. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she heard voices, addressed to her, closer to her than she would have liked.

“Now what do we have here?” A grim voice said behind her and when she turned she saw the grim face of the man it probably belonged to.

“Looks like a little spy to me…probably one of Cersei’s bitches.” Another said, this one was fat, but he did not have a kind look like fat Tom or hot pie this one had cruel eyes. Arya had to laugh at the nonsense those idiots were saying. “And now the bitch dares laugh to our faces? We’ll teach ya some manners, some respect, slut!” 

“Aye we will” the grim man said but he was visibly confused.

Arya was not laughing anymore, “the day I face Cersei Lannister, I’ll cut her throat, real slow and watch her bleed out, slowly, I’ll hear her begging for help as she holds her throat with bloody hands, dying, slowly. That will be right after I poke some holes in her and pierce every single of her bloody organs with this…” and she drew out Needle while standing up, holding needle to the throat of the fat man who did not scare her, she continued, “After having told her that I’ll kill every person that means a damn thing to her, when she will have died I am going to cut out her black heart and serve it to the brother she fucks, the one who fathered her bastard children, I’ll make him eat it just before I cut off his remaining hand and cut his throat with it” She ended with a satisfied smirk seeing the terror she had put in those men’s eyes.

They shook their fright away and the grim man opened his mouth. “You are bloody disgusting girl!” Was all he said before a third man caught her off guard and ripped needle from her hands with a heavy sword of his own. Maybe she should have slept the past days, her senses were blurred, she should not have been so easy to sneak up on. Another man grabbed her from behind and as she managed to fight him off the fat one hit her hard on the head and she fell to the ground.

She was dragged towards the camp inside a tent. The fat one tied her to a what seemed to be a trunk in the middle of the room. He slapped her, hard. She could feel the hot print of his thick hand on her cheek.

“What are you doing?” That was the grim man speaking, although he did not seem that grim anymore, he looked even more confused.  
“Teaching her a lesson you remember?” And with that he reached for her leather jerkin over her chest.

Arya felt a rush of fear, something she had not known in a long time, yet she hoped her voice did not let on when she spoke. “How dare you lay a hand on me! I am Arya of house Stark, daughter of lord Eddard and Catelyn Stark, sister to the king in the North Robb Stark, and sister to the king in the north Jon snow!” The dirty hand of the fat one seemed to come to a stop, but he still had a firm grip on the leather covering her chest.  
The eyes of the man she had thought looked grim seemed to pale as his eyes widened in shock or fear or disbelieve. Arya had little care for that, she was looking straight in the defying eyes that were opposed to her, the man’s eyes had fire in them. “It seems you follow the latter king according to the direwolf on the banners outside. I would suggest you let me down, present me with your sincerest apologies, give me some food and a fresh horse so I may make it back to my family alive, my dear brother would surely not take you raping me lightly.” Her tone was commanding and for a few seconds she thought it would work, that the truth for once would work. But as soon as the fire in the man’s eyes seemed to fade, it came back even stronger.

“You are no one, the daughter of some tavern wench and a drunk cunt that died no hero but by drinking himself to death in some fucking brothel where he met your whore mother.” With that he ripped her clothes open exposing her breasts to the cold air of winter since it had finally come. “And I will rape you, so hard you might not survive it.” He added with a smirk.

“Enough!” That was the voice of the man whose eyes seemed to fill with more and more pity with every passing second of Arya’s misery. “She is just a stupid girl let her go, and if there is even the slightest truth to what she says you will be glad I stopped you.”

“The slightest truth? This is a lying whore, I am giving her what she deserves, now get out and go suck on some frozen cock”

Arya understood immediately what her only chance of getting out of this now was. She looked at the man who seemed to try and help her with pleading wet eyes, he was her only chance of getting out of this unharmed and learning to act a play in Bravos seemed handy right now. “Please, help me” came out with a weak whimper. 

She had never imagined this could truly happen to her, sure the brother of the nights Watch who rescued her in kings Landing had made her cut her hair for it not to happen, the Hound had also said that she wouldn’t last a night outside alone and would be raped and killed, bloody hell nearly every man she had come across since her father was executed told her this would happen, told her to be careful. And here she was. She always thought herself as to wicked for it to happen to her. She thought of it happening to Sansa but Arya herself was far too strong and brave for it to actually get raped.

“Let her go, you know the king will not tolerate this, raping a helpless child in his own camp! Come on, leave her bloody tits and let her go already” Arya felt a rush of relieve and guilt as the man near the exit of the tent said these words. Relieve because she may yet survive this and be able to see Jon again and guilt for judging the man helping her so badly earlier. That was until she realised he had said the king and in his own camp. He was here? Jon was here? That almost made her forget that a disgusting man was trying to take her maidenhood.

“He is here? Truly?” she kicked the fat one in the stomach when he tried to get rid of her pants too, that earned her a hard smack on the left cheek and she felt blood trickle down from her eyebrow. “Please get him…tell him I’m here, please tell him Arya is here…”

“Arya Stark is dead!” the fat one said right before pushing his tong down the girl’s throat. He raised his head just once more to give a command or a threat to the other man “And you, get the bloody hell out Micah or I’ll fuck you next!”

His name was Micah? Like her friend the butcher’s boy was named long ago? That was a sign of the gods Arya thought. With a last attempt Arya crushed her knees into the fat one’s ribs “Tell Jon it’s me, tell him … tell him… tell him I have needle!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. Jon would remember needle. He had given her to Arya, he just had to remember.

“Get out! You stupid twat!” And with that the fat one stood up, the pain visible in his reddened face and anger in his eyes. He punched Arya in the stomach before smashing the back of his hand into her face once again, but angrier. She felt her cheek open and blood slowly trickle down from the gash. She saw the man named Micah get out of the tent with his eyes on the ground, she lost hope of seeing Jon again. The fat one would slit her throat when he was done. She was afraid. How could she now be brave when she was afraid?

‘That is the only time we can be brave’. Her father’s words rang in her head.


	2. I missed you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those were not the caring eyes of the Jon snow he knew was in that other man, that man seemed unpredictable in his next step, controlled by boiling rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally very, very long so i decided to cut it in two. That way I can post this chapter sonner and it isn't so massif.  
> As always, tell me what you think and be honest. Enjoy, or not, your choice. <3

JON

He was discussing the trip to Dragonstone with Ser Davos. The ship had not been able to leave White Harbor because of a storm and they had camped close to the docks for a couple of days but yesterday the storm suddenly disappeared, tomorrow if the gods were good, they would leave before dawn. Since the sun set, the sky had been of a quiet beautiful pink, Sansa must have loved it if she saw it from Winterfell, the storm seemed to have come to an end.

“Yes your grace, the men have been made aware of the upcoming departure.” Jon liked having Ser Davos as adviser, the man had something reassuring about him. He seemed to have seen a great deal of the world and had a sceptical mind. Moreover, men as loyal as him were hard to find these days.

“Good, we can’t afford to wait another day.”

A young man came running into the tent, war had killed the generation before them so most of the men were quiet young. “Your grace, I am sorry to disturb you but there was a young girl watching the camp from a hill and Eddrick thought she may have been a Lannister spy but she says she’d kill Cercei if she could, but nevermind, so…”

“Come to the point boy” Davos said to the visibly irritated boy. “We don’t have all day for your stammering.” 

“Well Edrick, he is about to rape her.” The boy ended and the king stood up in one motion.

“What?!” was all Jon could manage to say, these men were northerners, he always thought northerners had more honour that the southerners. A man with a shred of honour wouldn’t rape a helpless girl.

“And…and she says her name is Arya Stark” Jon’s heart tightened, pulsing at a rate he had not ever felt before, pulsing with pure fear that this might be true. “She also said something about a needle…” The boy managed to remember.

His heart no longer had a fast rate, it had stopped. Arya was alive? Here? And then he remembered, being raped?? He took the boy by his shirt dragging him outside the king’s tent. “Where?!” he commanded. The pitiful boy pointed towards a tent that was 50 steps away. His dear Arya, the sun that lit up his days as children, was being raped 50 steps from where he was talking about the weather a few moments ago?

He let go of the boy’s clothes and stormed towards that tent. When he entered he saw the back of a girl sitting on a man, choking him underneath her with her bare hands. He couldn’t move, until the back of the man’s hand slammed against the girl’s face, the girl landed on the floor and he saw her face, Arya, the leather that was supposed to cover her chest was torn off. Her face and body were covered in bruises. The man who wanted to rape his sister was struggling to his feet and turned pale once his eyes met Jon’s.

“Your grace!” Was all the guard managed to mumble before hitting the ground, hard.   
Jon was on top, punching into him. How dare he touch his sister! 

Jon cannot exactly recall how long he punched into the man’s face. He punched until he could barely make out there was a man beneath his fists. He was interrupted by a pained cough to his right.

Arya had blood trickle down from her left brow, her cheek and her mouth. She tried to get on her feet but seemed near collapsing. She had large purple stains on her middle. He stood up, suddenly resenting himself for not turning to her earlier.

He wrapped her in his cloak, ran his hand down her split cheek. “Jon?” The pain that she had, saying his name, broke him.   
“Shhhh…don’t speak, you’re alright, you’re fine now, you’re safe.” Her eyes closed slowly and her head fell back. Jon picked her up and carried her towards his own tent. As he walked he saw her face up closely, his heart ached with every second he saw her bruised little face. She had grown, and if not for her red bruises, she had grown truly beautiful.

He entered his tent and put her beneath the furs on his bed, covering her up to her bruised cheek. She was asleep. He sat down on the nearest chair a few feet away and gazed at her. His sister. “I never thought I’d see you again, I thought you died.” He knew she could not hear him. When his eyes met her sleeping form, she looked almost peaceful. Just like when she would sneak into his bed at night to cuddle back in Winterfell. 

He had a sudden rush of guilt speed through him “I should have known you were alive, you were always so wild, you’re a survivor, I should have known it!” His eyebrows curled up into a frown and he felt the emotions get the better of him as his eyes began to wet. “I should have sent every last of my man to find you and bring you back home safely, just like I should have known it in my heart that you were out there. I should have felt you so near, being…” It was too much, all of it, the army of the dead, the dragon queen, being King and now Arya having nearly been raped right under his nose. 

He decided it was no way for a king to cry like a green boy when reuniting with his sister. He would manage his emotions otherwise.  
Jon stood up and paced to the tent where Ser Davos had apparently sought to it that that fat rapist be chained to a column. “Your grace.” Ser Davos said seeing a mixture of deep sadness and uncontained anger in the king’s eyes. The fire in the Kings eyes made his blood run cold. Those were not the caring eyes of the Jon snow he knew was in that other man, that man seemed unpredictable in his next step, controlled by boiling rage.

“Leave us” the King in the North said.

As the people around him left, Jon closed the distance between him and the men who wanted to rape his sister. Looking him right in the eyes as he came closer.

“I swear, by the old gods and the new, I did not know she was your sister, your grace” The scared man stammered. He was met with a punch on the left cheek and Jon saw the flesh tear even more open than it had before.

“Then you deny it, that she told you she was Arya Stark” Jon yelled right before thrusting his fist into the man’s middle. He undid the man’s chains and threw him to the ground, sitting himself once again on top of the man he so dearly wanted to kill. But this time he did not intend to stop. He started punching into him, and despite of his own will, a tear ran down his right eye. This man had kept Arya from him and tried to hurt her, he deserved to die. 

When he could not feel his joints anymore Ser Davos came back into the tent, probably trying to talk sense into his King. “Your grace, do you think it wise to beat to death a strong man that can clearly fight? Is there not a more profitable solution for the realm, for the North?”

Jon knew what he meant and stopped his fists. “You would have me to send him to the wall? No, the men of the nights watch are an honourable brotherhood, this man has no honour. He deserves nothing but death.” Jon’s tone was firm, commanding, kingly yes. 

“But the men on the wall need more men, I am not sure they specify the men must be honourable, most of them were criminals. With respect, some are rapists too, and this man did not succeed. I believe it would serve the north, to send him to castle black.

Jon slowly let go of the now deformed man in favour of looking into his advisor’s eye. He then remembered his time at the wall, fighting the dead. “Aye, you’re right” He did’nt want to send this man to the wall, he didn’t deserve it, Jon wanted to kill him. But Davos had a point, it was the right thing to do. “I’ll send him to the wall.”

When Ser Davos looked into his king’s eyes once again, the anger was gone, leaving the sadness.

The king let out a sigh. “Chain him back up and send him with 3 other guards to the wall first thing in the morning, tell the other men that they do not need to take wows they don’t want to keep, but tell them they are welcome to remain at castle black and protect the north, the wall needs men that can fight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to my sister.”

Davos could not explain what it was he felt in his heart, relieve? Was it pride? to serve this King? Stannis would have burned this man alive. Hell, he burned any man who spoke against the lord of light alive. Jon snow was the best king he had ever met. He would make his kingdom prosper. “As you command, your grace.”

When Jon arrived in his own tent, Arya was still asleep, he covered her in another fur fearing she’d be cold and prayed to the old gods that he would see her grey eyes again soon.  
***  
He did not know when it had happened, but he had fallen asleep watching her. She had shorter hair, but it was still brown and wild, her eyebrows had gotten thicker, not to compare with Sansa’s thin ones. She herself had gotten bigger, she was no longer that bony girl he had once known. But the deep purple circles underneath her closed eyes concerned him, what happened to her? A lot he imagined, since a lot had happened to him too. What had happened to her seemed to have tired her out, but then again, he supposed what happened to him tired him out as well.

When he awoke, she had not. It was still dark outside, possibly night, or the morrow he did not know. Jon stretched, perhaps it had not been such good idea to sleep in a chair… his back ached and his neck was stiff. But all his pain vanquished when his eyes turned back to Arya. She had still that same look on her face as she had before he had fallen asleep. Only, where her face had once reddish bruises, they were now purple and swollen. Jon felt the anger come back to him…this was his fault. But his rage faded as quick as it had come when he saw her eyelids flutter and slowly open. “Arya? Can you hear me? Are you all right? How bad does it hurt?” He paused for a second realising he could be overwhelming her, “I’ve missed you, so much”

Her head slowly turned to him and her soft smile warmed his heart like it had as children. “I’ve missed you Jon”, she then touched her cheek, a hurt whimper escaping her throat and her eyes grew wide when she softly touched her brow. Her eyes fell towards her body. She was still, underneath the furs, only covered in her brother’s cloak. Her cheeks stained pink. Of shame? Jon asked himself. He then grew self-conscious. He was on a chair watching his sister, whom was naked except for his cloak, after nearly being raped. 

“I’ll let you change, I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with me doing it while you were asleep, there are some clothes on the desk. I’ll be just outside when you’re ready.” Himself having a soft flush on his face, Jon stood up and left the tent, giving order not to disturb his sister.


	3. You are home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya reunites with Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey guys, I don't know where all this is coming from I had some time today and managed to finish this whole chapter, but like I don't know how I just wrote this whole thing in one go, I guess the inspiration was just flowing.   
> Enjoy, or not, your choice, Tell me in the comments. <3

ARYA

Arya touched the soft and heavy fabric that lay on Jon’s desk, next to a map of the seven kingdoms, it was a leather and fur ensemble. The clothes put on his desk for her looked a lot like the ones the fat one had destroyed, only they were not brown but grey, the Stark colours, with more furs tan before. They also seemed like finer clothes, clothes for a high born. And she was high born she struggled to remember, she was a Stark and supposed to live in a castle and marry some lord. But that life seemed long gone, she had gotten used to the cheap and dirty clothes she could find.

Jon’s cloak was soft and warm on her skin, she smelled at the fur, it smelled of him, of Jon, of snow, smoke and pine needles. She took it off and laid it gently on the desk as not to break it. She then put on the clothes that lay on the table and reminded her so much of her family and her home, Winterfell. ‘The Boltons are dead, Jon snow came down from castle black and won the battle of the bastards’, Hot pie’s words still rang in her head, it was true, Jon was alive. 

When Arya stepped out of the tent she found her brother in a deep conversation with someone who seemed to be his advisor. She was just 10 steps away from him, but the distance seemed like a continent between them. Arya inhaled deeply. She had ‘reunited’ with him yesterday already, Jon seemed to have tried to talk to her just this morning even though she had not understood a word he said, had only seen his brooding eyes and his finger pointing to the clothes on his desk. Was he happy to see her again? Truly? The thought of that not being true made her knees tremble, her throat grow dry and her heart ache. Maybe he would be tolerating her presence because she was his sister and he thought that to be his duty, maybe the distance growing apart all those years had changed them to familiar strangers.

All her fears were swiftly swept away as Jon caught sight of her and turned to face her. He exhaled a deep breath just like she had and started walking towards her at a quick pace. She felt like becoming a little girl again, as she raced to him as fast as her feet would take her. She made a jump towards him to be in his arms and tangled herself onto him. She felt his arms tight around her, as were hers and she breathed in his sent, as he seemed to also do. She tried to get closer to him burying herself deeper into his furs as he held her tightly against his chest, unwilling to let go of one another, not ever again.

He sweetly caressed her hair as he let her back down to the ground. And softly kissed her forehead while cupping her face with his hands. He then stepped a foot back, resting a hand on her shoulder and looked her up and down before talking “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you” at that she just smiled, “But you are still as tiny as I can remember, but I’m sure you have grown at least a little” he said before adding, “Maybe I have just grown so much I don’t see the difference with before.” And this time there was something cocky in his smile she couldn’t bring herself to want to go away. 

Arya’s face remained radiant, despite Jon’s petty comment, she gazed deep in his grey eyes that mirrored hers, and after coming to her senses laughed “If this petty person is who you have become, I’d rather have the old Jon back please.” He laughed.

She escaped Jon’s grasp and walked towards the man seeming to advise her brother. “I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, and you are?” she said with a kind yet demanding tone.

“I am Ser Davos Seaworth, if it please my lady” 

“I am no lady. Since when do you advise my brother?” Arya asked, trying to read the man while he gave Jon a questioning glance.

“Since King Stannis died. I met him at castle black and have been serving him, loyally ever since.” Ser Davos Seaworth seemed content with his answer, but Arya was not satisfied.

“Weren’t you with your king when he died? Why? Did you run? Are you a coward? Just so it is clear, you served a King, and after he died you went looking for someone else to whisper in the ear? I am sorry, but I find myself being a bit confused. If Jon would come to die, are you going to run and then reach out to Cersei to whisper in her ear?” Arya did her best to try and pierce the man with her stare, she knew she had to push deep to discover the true intentions of the men surrounding her brother, find the loyal ones and kill the others.

“Arya enough!” She turned to face Jon, his look was commanding, so unlike in their childhood, he truly sounded like a king. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad of this change.

“It is all right your grace” Arya turned back to Ser Davos. “Yes, I have served lord Stannis before your brother, I bloody loved the man, he died ignoring his hand’s, my, council. I wish I could have been there when he died but the king sent me with an important message to deliver to your brother at castle black and he didn’t trust anyone else but me to deliver it. I am loyal to his grace Jon snow, I believe in him, he has a good heart and no, I would not run were he to die, I would happily give my life for his, just like he gave his for the wild-.” 

He stopped, looking at Jon. When Arya turned to her brother she saw threatening eyes where caring ones used to be. If she had thought how he looked at her seconds ago was commanding, it was nothing compared to his face right now.

Arya walked towards Jon again and away from Ser Davos “I like this man, keep him close” she said as she walked past Jon, her tone was warm and kind. She looked around the camp, anywhere really except at Jon because she did not want to look at his face for what followed. “What are you going to do with the man that tried to rape me?” Her tone was cold as ice, she tried to keep the emotions out.

She didn’t see Jon’s face but there was a silence before his answer with which she could quite well imagine the face. “He is in the tent right there”. Arya turned to see where he was pointing. “Davos convinced me to send him the wall and not kill him.” He looked her in the eyes. “But say the word and I’d be too glad to behead him. I…it’s your choice.” He looked hurt, she did not want him to be hurt because of what happened to her.

“I want to see him and I have a couple of things to say.” She said, acknowledging but not answering Jon’s implicit question and walking at a fast pace towards the tent.

“Are you sure? Is that wise?” Jon said as he rushed to follow her.

“I am, could you stay outside?”

With that she entered the tent and when she didn’t see her brother behind her, she looked at the man who tried to rape her. The fat one was tied to what seemed to be a trunk. “Remember me fat one?” She said watching his eyes as he slowly opened them. His eyes were the same they had been yesterday, his eyes were actually the only thing that had remained recognisable of him. 

Arya could scarcely remember the night before this day, but she did remember Jon pacing into the tent, she could remember her brother on top of this man punching into him. She felt pride knowing that her brother had done that to a man who would hurt her.

“How could I forget you, stupid bitch! There is only one thing I regret, whore, that I did not fuck you hard and deep splitting you in two before your cunt of a brother came in.” She was used to this kind of language, yet it still caught her unprepared, but she did not let on.

She smiled softly, but her smile disappeared when Jon entered. “I don’t think you should be here alone.” Was all he said. 

That was problematic, she could not say what she had planned if her brother was here, but she was still touched by how much he cared, and nodded.

“Too afraid to be here alone child?” She turned back to the fat man, but her gaze flashed immediately back to her brother.

“I should beat you to death. Shut your mouth or I might still hang you, or better, I’m going to quarter you.” She was used to violence, but not from her sweet brother’s mouth, she tried to look him in the eyes to calm him but he was looking at the fat one, fire in his eyes, a rage she did not know he could have. Arya watched as Jon strode forward and punched into the man on his already bloody and deformed face. And then he punched him again.

“It’s alright, I’m fine” Arya said touching his shoulder blade softly. She did not want Jon to be this way, even though a small part of her enjoyed this. 

He gave in to her touch and stepped back. She remembered, she told Jon she was going to tell the man something, she could not say what she wanted now, but she had to say something. 

She stepped as close, to the smelling flesh that could not be called a face anymore, as she could, “I told you my brother would not take you trying to rape me lightly, and now you are going to the wall” If your flesh does not rot before you arrive, your balls will freeze so hard you won’t even be able to fuck your own hand anymore, she thought with no one else hearing it. “You’ll probably freeze and die” She finished. She turned back to Jon with a sweet smile she used to have as a child, “Let’s break our fast shall we?”

He nodded with the kindness back in his eyes and they went towards the place where tables had been set up. Yet, before they reached the place where all the men were eating as the sun crept out, Jon pulled Arya in another tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, I cannot, I will not see you hurt, anyhow, ever again. I cannot lose you again do you hear me?” He held her so tight against his chest, unyielding, that Arya thought he may crush her ribs.

“You won’t lose me, not ever again. Just like I’ll never lose you again.” Her ribs did not break and for the first time in countless years she felt safe. To her discontent he let her down again and they joined the men to eat.

***.  
She was seated on a higher table, next to Jon, Ser Davos and another man she did not know. Jon seemed to be in a deep conversation about strategy or so with his man, but Arya did not care, next to Jon, she felt at home. Jon was home. 

Arya observed as one of the guards, held up his glass of brown ale towards the king and shouted, “to the king in the north!” and another followed adding on his part, “the man who avenged the red wedding!” and all men drank. Arya also swallowed a bit of beer, that earned her a frown from her king and brother. 

She wondered how killing one man who took part in the red wedding was avenging it all, but she guessed that it could be said he had his part in the revenge of their family. With a smirk to herself she added that she did have the greater part since she had killed all the Frey’s that meant a damn thing.

She recalled with a smile how all the cunts had died choking on their own blood. How all their cheering and laughter had died when they had that terrible pain in their throats. ‘Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe’ she had enjoyed saying that, it was close to how she enjoyed saying ‘Tell them the north remembers, tell them winter came for house Frey’. 

Was it wrong to have enjoyed the fear on the woman’s faces? Arya knew they were only woman and had nothing to do with the slaughter of her family, that’s why she didn’t kill them. But they were still Frey’s and that fear on their faces was but to sweet.

She was ripped from her thoughts as Jon turned to her, “I know you probably want to go home to Winterfell. I, am anyhow obliged to leave for Dragonstone in a few hours, even if I hate to leave you, I’ll give you 15 of my man to escort you back to Winterfell”.

“Dragonstone? Why are you leaving for Dragonstone?” She was confused, why would he want to go to Dragonstone? From all she had heard the dragon queen was there now, after Stannis had died.

“Daenerys Targaryen invited me…to bend the knee… but I won’t, and I have another important matter to discuss with her” He said.

“She invited you...to bend the knee…” Arya was now quite suspicious. This invitation sounded a bit like the one Cersei would give her enemies, right before she’d slaughter them.

“Aye, and I’m going, I was supposed to leave before dawn but…” he paused, seeming to choose his words cautiously, “but then you came.” If it wasn’t for the love she could see in his eyes and his sweet smile, she could have felt like a liability, but she didn’t.

“I’d like to come.” She said with in an exited, childlike tone, his smile disappeared. She feared to have said something wrong, maybe she had lost the few manners she did have before she left Westeros and was being somehow disrespectful. She tried again with more proper words to correct herself. “I am sorry your Grace, but I do not think I would do well back in Winterfell without you, and if I may, I do not know any of these men anymore, I would rather remain by your side, if it please you my king.” This was as lady-like as she could get.

His face cracked into a smile and before long he burst into laughter, leaving Arya smiling with a deep flush in a red tone as she felt humiliated. When he managed to calm himself, keeping a smirk on his face he seemed to realise how uncomfortable she was so he said: “I am sorry, but I can’t recall a day when you honoured anyone with talking like such a lady, I suppose your mother would be proud. And please don’t start with all that your Grace and king thing, for you it’s still just Jon, I’d be thankful for you to leave those formalities behind when you speak to me, you’re my little sister.” And with that Jon mussed her hair like he used to as children and Arya felt at ease.

“All right, Jon, I would like to go with you, I probably don’t know anyone in Winterfell anymore, I’d like to not feel like a stranger in my own home. And I want to stay with you.” She thought she sounded convincing enough. 

Jon looked deep into her eyes with an expression she couldn’t place. He let out a sight she didn’t know he was keeping, he seemed to smile to himself like he had some life-changing news to share with her. “Sansa is home.” Arya felt her heart come to a stop, her sister was alive? And home? She should have known, although she did kind of suspect it. “It’s thanks to her that I am even alive today, the battle at Winterfell was lost until the knights of the Vale came in, for her.” Arya’s sister was home, and a hero.

Sansa was home, how she would love to hug her tightly, to see her pretty face again. But Arya didn’t want to lose Jon again. “I still want to come with you. Please take me with you, I…I could protect you…although you probably don’t need protection… I could protect Ser Davos, he doesn’t look like a man who can fight…” Arya realised while talking how desperate she sounded.

The girl could feel her brother’s unease, “Protect Ser Davos? Arya you cannot even protect yourself, save someone else!” he was talking louder than she would have liked. 

“Yes I can! Last night I was simply so tired from the ride, I didn’t sleep in days when your men surprised me.” She talked without thinking, she sounded like a little girl, not like the woman she had become. What was happening to her? Was she so desperate to be close to Jon that she became that little girl she once was, hoping he would like her better like this and take her with him?

“Is this some kind of joke? Have you not grown up the tiniest bit since we last parted?” The rest of the men had now stopped talking and looked at the spectacle of Arya being grounded as if she was a child, as if Jon had been her mother, which he wasn’t, her mother was dead. She had been at the twins when it had happened, where half her family had been slaughtered, her mother, her brother, her sister-in-law, her niece, her uncle...She had been there, he had not. She remained silent, calm you could call it. She was simply looking straight into her brother’s eyes, her body was indeed calm, only in her eyes you could see the storm. “Arya, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, listen…”

“I am sorry, I don’t feel too well, perhaps yesterday’s events have a bigger impact on me than I thought, may I be excused, your grace?” Her lips were turned upwards into a forced smile and her grey eyes gave Jon the sweetest look she could manage. But inside of her, there was a storm, she had to get her composure back, and to do that she had to practice.

“Of course… you can go to my tent and lie down, I still have matters to discuss with Ser Davos” He sounded hurt, was it her that had hurt him? She wanted to give him space, maybe she was wrong.

As she stood up she remembered that Jon’s men had taken needle, she needed needle. “One last thing…Jon, would you know where my sword could be? I am quite attached to it.” She hoped the last part could bring the smile back to his lips, and it did.

It was a faint smile, but it was there. “Yes, it is in my tent, next to the map on my desk”. She gave him a quick nod and went towards the tent, had she not seen it before?


	4. Water dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya tries to convice Jon to take her with him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 4.   
> Enjoy, or not, your choice. Let me know what you think in the comments. <3

JON

“The ship will be entirely loaded by midday. If the winds are still kind when we set sail, the delay will have no impact on when we will arrive. We should be ready to leave White Harbor before dusk your grace.” Ser Davos said to Jon as they discussed their departure.

“Do you also think me a fool Ser Davos? For going to see the mad king’s daughter.” All Jon’s bannermen and even Sansa had said so. Was he so incredibly naïve to put his trust into a stranger? She could very well behead him when he’ll say he’d not bend the knee, or have her dragons burn him alive.

“Aye, if she was her father, but with what I have heard of this Daenerys Targaryen, I do not believe her to be her father. By that I mean, I don’t think she’ll burn us alive. But still, I do not think us safe after she learns you don’t think the north will be part of the kingdoms she is convinced are her birth right to rule over.”

Davos had the truth of it, even if she was not her father and would not burn them alive, it was still very dangerous. That was the reason Jon did not want Arya to come with him, it was not safe. 

Jon remembered with a chuckle how Arya had said she could protect him or Ser Davos, how ridiculous was that! She could not even protect herself. If not for him she would quite probably have been raped last night, though he should have found her earlier... He would not risk getting her in such danger ever again, Winterfell was the safest place for her to be.

Truth be, he did not want to be separated from her again, but what choice did he have? He could not be so selfish as to put his little sister in danger for the sole purpose of being able to enjoy her company. 

“Your grace, forgive me but, will your sister be accompanying us to Dragonstone?” Jon had a brooding look on his face, when Davos could not find an answer he continued, “It’s just that I need to tell the man to prepare for sail, or to prepare for a ride back to Winterfell…” 

Jon nodded in understanding. Arya would be riding back to Winterfell. “I have not yet decided.” But he had come to a decision, Arya was going back to Winterfell, she had to, he had no choice but to send her back home to Sansa. He hesitated, why? He wanted to take her with him, but he couldn’t, it was not even a decision to take, she just had to go home.

“I understand” Ser Davos seemed to read Jon’s face and decided to leave him to his brooding. “Well, with your leave, I would go make sure the ship is ready for when we leave.” Jon nodded and appeared lost in his thoughts, which he was.

***

After drinking the last of his cup straight, he decided he would go find Arya and explain why she could not come, properly and without losing his temper this time, hoping she would understand. He stood up and excused himself from the men that remained seated before him and went for his tent. 

When he entered, he found it empty. He made it to his desk to see Arya’s sword gone, he started getting worried, had she run off? No, she wouldn’t do that, would she? No, he still remembered like it was yesterday, how her adoring gaze lay on him in their childhood, Arya wouldn’t abandon him. They did have an argument but she wouldn’t run off because of a stupid little dispute. Maybe she went for a walk, yes, that was likely. He stepped out in the fresh air to go find her, even if she did not run away, it was too dangerous for her to be out alone, he was worried. The simple thought of her getting hurt, again, made his heart skip a beat.

*** 

Jon found her near the water, barefoot on the sand and wielding around that skinny sword of hers. He thought about interrupting her, but she seemed so buried in thoughts he decided to watch her for a few moments. 

At some point he realised that she was not waving Needle randomly around in the air like he thought she would be, her swings were controlled, precise, the skinny sword flew around like it was a feather in the wind and Arya was the breeze. She handled the small blade in a braavosi way it seemed. Maybe she did know how to defend herself a bit. Yet, just because now she looked in control, it didn’t mean she would know what to do with a real person in front of her trying to kill her. Her movements were swift and sudden, it was simply elegant. But elegant could not protect her, that was proved to him just yesterday. He was clearly trying to find excuses to bring her with him. Her little Needle would not do well against a longsword.

“Do you enjoy watching my water dance brother? Do you want to practice with me?” He was caught off guard, and not quite sure if it was indeed Arya who had said these words since her movements had continued as if nothing were. “Well?” Now she had stopped, holding the sword he had gifted her behind her back. She was not hiding it, it looked like a stance. He had never seen anyone hold their weapon behind their back as a stance, maybe it was the braavosi style.

“You want me to fight you?” he had a small but unmistakeable smile on his face, trying to mock her. Was she serious? “Are you sure little sister? I wouldn’t want to hurt you…” Arya did seem a bit over confident.

“Don’t worry you won’t, and I’ll try not to cut you.” She said with a smile of her own. They both grew silent, obviously Jon was not going to thrust his Valyrian steel sword onto his sister. “I propose a deal.” she continued before being interrupted.

“A deal?” He could not hold back his laugh, his sister was quite persistent, yet he supposed, she had always been.

“Yes, a deal. If you beat me I’ll go back to Winterfell, to Sansa, I’ll stop arguing and fighting to come with you to Dragonstone. But if you don’t, you’ll take me with you.” He couldn’t make out if she was genuinely proposing this or if she was joking. 

Seeing her determined expression, he assumed the latter wasn’t true. So, she was being serious? This was absurd. “Arya come on…don’t be ridiculous.”

If he didn’t see it, he is sure he could have felt the defiance in her eyes.

“Are you afraid you’ll lose?” She said, starting to swing that needle of hers around her body again, circling it around with her fingers. “After all, I’m just a little girl, it would be an easy way to end my bickering and send me home.” She was clearly trying to play him, manipulate him, he knew that. And even though he had to laugh at that, it was working.

“I’m not going to hack at you with a Valyrian steel sword, are you mad?”

“That’s alright, if you want there is a blunt blade just there” She said pointing to a sparring sword a couple of feet away from him. 

“Where did you get that?” He said walking towards the sword.

“I found it.”

He gave her a look, meaning he knew she had planned this. But could he back off now? She had tediously destroyed all his arguments against it, and even so, she was right, it was an easy way of making her go back to Winterfell without having to argue any more. So, he picked up the sword and after a quick examination to make sure the edges were not sharp at all, he nodded. “All right” now he laughed again, “don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.”

“Oh, please do!” She said, she stopped Needle and gave Jon a terribly exaggerated scared look. According to the loud chuckle that followed it, she was mocking him. She soon started wailing Needle around her again, was she trying to show off to scare him?   
He usually didn’t charge first and just deflected the thrusts of the opponent and then hit hard, like when he trained at the night’s watch, but Arya just kept spinning her sword around, not seeming to try and launch at him. 

Jon therefore decided to go in first, he thrust his blunt sword down towards her, hoping it would throw her to the ground to be done with it, without hurting her. 

But she simply glided with the motions of his sword, quick as a snake she whipped his right arm. With every offence he started, she just seemed to move with it, she escaped every one of his hits as easy as breathing would come to another person. She knew every one of his moves before he himself knew them. When he tried to hit hard with the pommel, she just dodged or moved swiftly to the side, leaving him off balance. Every now and again she would whip him with a smirk never far from her lips, hurting Jon’s ego more than his limbs. 

This went on for longer than he would have liked, and he started to take his sister’s sword fighting more seriously. He grew frustrated and his thrusts less controlled and more in a hacking kind of style, he started to see the struggle on her face as deflecting his sword coming at her became more and more complicated. When she swirled to the side escaping another one of his strikes, he managed to thrust the pommel of his sparring sword into her shoulder blade, she fell with her chest and face to the dirt, but her hands softened the fall. He thought she was done but she twirled around landing on her feet. 

Stunned, Jon chuckled. What else could he do? Had Arya become an incredibly skilled assassin? And there was that smile, the one that showed how much she enjoyed this fight. Maybe he started to enjoy it to? Maybe he had enjoyed it since the beginning. 

Arya went into a stronger attack, Jon struggled more and more to throw her stab motions in the air. He managed to push her sword into the sand, burying it in the brown beach after one of her thrusts, she pivoted to pick it up but he thought to be quick enough when he held his blunt sword to her throat. 

His lips turned upwards once more “I win” Jon said, out of breath, unable to hold back his chuckle.

“Not exactly” Arya said, looking up to him, with a smile of her own. Jon looked down to see a skinny sword point into the clothes over his middle. 

“Well, you didn’t win either…” He said, keeping his sword in place as well as the smile that witnessed that he indeed enjoyed this fight.

She kept her sword against his stomach. “But that wasn’t the deal, you, just weren’t supposed to win, that was the deal.” She stepped back, putting her sword behind her back in that stance of hers, giving out an exhausted, yet satisfied sigh. “So, I’m coming with you.”

He thought about it for a few moments, could he refuse her now? Just because she could fight it didn’t mean she would be safe. “Aye, it appears you are.” At that Arya gave him a satisfied grin, in some ways she was so much like that bony girl back in Winterfell, but so different. His little sister had put him out of breath and nearly beat him, “Where did you learn to fight like this? I am quite sure father wouldn’t have taught you that.” 

She looked lost in thoughts or memories for a moment before speaking. “Actually, he didn’t but he let me. He arranged for Syrio Forel, the first sword of the sea lord of Braavos and greatest swordsman who ever lived, to teach me how to fight.”

“You learned to fight this way in King’s Landing? I always thought the only style you could learn in Westeros was hacking and slashing with heavy longswords or great swords. Maybe I should have gone to the capital to be quick like you.” He said with a chuckle, sinking the blunt sword into the sand and wiping off the sweat that had built up between his brows.

“You wouldn’t have liked it there…it was torture…except for my lessons.” She said, thinking, “And I wasn’t any good at it when I was in that shit stinking city, I got better in Braavos when I was training to be- never mind it’s not important.” She said looking at her feet like she used to as a girl when she did something wrong. He saw the Arya he knew years ago again, this grown version of her was still his sweet and wild little sister.

“You, went to Braavos?! I can’t believe it.” He had not heard a word his sister had said after saying she travelled to Braavos. “That must have been quite an adventure!” He was staring at her or better, the life she had had without him.

“Oh yes, there are many exiting adventures I’ve had.” She laughed, yet there was irony in this laugh. “I guess I finally grew up.”

The King chuckled, “maybe you have…” he said coming closer to her, “but not too much” and with that he mussed her hair. His sweet sister gave him that radiant beam he loved so dear. But something in her eyes was different, maybe she had finally seen something of the world like she had always wanted.

He looked back towards the camp, feeling like maybe he had been gone for too long.

“I’d like to hear about your adventures, about what’s happened to you.” Davos would manage alone a little while longer. “Do you want to sit?” He said pointing to a fallen tree not far from them. 

“I’m afraid it isn’t one of Sansa’s maiden fair stories, actually I think many ladies would be horrified at what you want me to tell you.”

“It’s good I’m not a maiden fair then. I’d like to hear how you became such a skilled dancer.” Jon states, the teasing clear in his voice as he sat down.

“A skilled fighter you mean.” Arya says with a sharp edge in her voice, slowly walking to sit next to him.

“Sure, that’s what I meant.” 

They talked until midday, and Jon learned a great many things about his sweet little sister.


	5. unarmed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The northeners leave for Dragonstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 5. Enjoy, or not, your choice.  
> Tell me what you think or what you'd like to see happen in the comments. :)  
> P.S This chapter is much longer than usually, hope you don't mind <3

Arya

After coming back to the camp, Jon had immediately gone to speak to Ser Davos, he told some men to get more clothes for his sister at the port and told them to hurry since they would leave quite soon. And she was leaving too, she was coming with Jon, he wanted her to come…although that wasn’t true since she had fought for the privilege to accompany him.

There was still one thing she had to do before she could leave. She decided to go to the camp’s borders where the woods started again to find the fat one who had been tied to a tree, she had not finished talking to him, last time her brother had interrupted it, now she was alone and could finally put an end to that memory lingering in her mind.

“Well, well, well. Now, if that isn’t the stark whore!” She heard him say, but hardly acknowledged it. She just stood in front of him for a few moments, savouring the sight of this bloody body.

After some time, she decided to get on with it. “Did you enjoy hurting me? Did it bring you pleasure, to watch me being unable to fight back? Was it delightful, to see the bruises on my face, the ones you had put there?” She stayed at some distance, circling around him, watching his restraints.

“Your brother, he’ll quarter me if I speak my truth.” He said, piercing the ice in her eyes with the fire of his.

“He isn’t here now.” She came closer to him, slowly, mesmerised at the disgusting flesh that was his face.

He did not break their eye contact. “Aye, I did. You were a great pleasure indeed.”

“Good.” She said, undoing the chains around him. The man was left confused. When she was done, he fell to the ground, whimpering at the pain. She threw the blunt sword Jon had used earlier to him. “Fight me, if you win, I’ll let you go, if I win, you’ll tell my brother you refuse going to the wall.” Her tone was calm, confident, too confident.

“He’ll kill me.” The fat one said, climbing to his feet.

“I know.” Arya responded with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“This is a sparring sword, I can’t fight with that!” He said picking it up. “Give me a real one.” 

Arya wanted to prove she was better than him. She was well rested and her senses were sharp. She was confident, no, she was sure she was going to beat him. But she was not stupid, she wasn’t stupid enough as to give the man who tried to rape her a real sword to spar with her.

“I’ve once watched a man bring down 5 armed Lannister soldiers with a stick when they threatened me. You’ll handle a little girl with a sparring sword, won’t you?”

The fat man directed his sword at her in a threatening way that did not scare her. “When I’ll be done with you, you’ll be begging me to do to you what I did yesterday.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” The man did not scare her, but he angered her very much, Arya wanted to shut his arrogant mouth once and for all. Her blood was cold but boiling, she thrusted Needle into the ground. “I’ll even give you an advantage.”

The man laughed and threw his head back. “Your mistake, bitch. You know, before I leave when I am done, I will rape you.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” She finished before he threw himself on her.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

The execution had taken place right before they left, Jon had done it, with his Valyrian steel sword he called Longclaw. Arya enjoyed every moment of it, from the sound Longclaw did when she cut through the air on the way down, to the sound of the head falling and rolling on the ground.

The reason she had not killed him herself was simple, he was not on her list, he did not hurt her family or friends, he could not be on her list. Though, she did want him dead, so she had found a way. Moreover, Jon had looked shocked enough after she had told him all her ‘adventures’. She hadn’t liked the look in his eyes afterwards, so it was probably best to try and not walk around killing people, until he had digested her past. 

 

She was on the deck, they had left White Harbor some time ago, the moon was high in the sky and no one was on deck, so she supposed it was around midnight.

“Are you alright?” She heard Jon say while she looked at the vast ocean before her. She did not hear him coming.

“I am”, she said, looking up at him. She was.

She was supposed to be in bed. Yet she supposed, she would have enough time to rest during the week on the Bite and the Narrow sea. 

“You are shivering” Jon said, gently brushing her skin where goosebumps had appeared. “Come on it’s too cold for you out here, go back to your cabin, you need some sleep…” He sounded so worried she already felt bad, no matter what she did, most of the time she felt like she made Jon look sad or worried.

“I’m alright, really.” He didn’t look convinced. “I am a Stark, the north runs through my veins as much as in runs through yours, a little cold won’t hurt me, it’s a part of me.” He stood next too her, silently. 

“You have not yet told me the what’s happened to you all these years, so, what have I missed? What’s the story of Jon snow, how did you go from man of the night’s watch to King in the North?” Jon laughed, she now realised how she had missed this laugh these past years.

“I’m afraid it’s also not such a happy tale.”

“Come on…I want to know.” 

“All right, you’re quite stubborn you know.”

They talked till dawn and Arya learned a great many things about her dear brother.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

They arrived the following week. 

“The bastard of Winterfell.” The imp said. She didn’t like that, Jon was king.

“The dwarf of Casterly Rock.” Jon said and Arya had to admit, it had a nice ring to it.

The two men exchanged familiar smiles and Arya remembered they had travelled together to the Wall and perhaps they had been fond of each other. That was confirmed when Tyrion Lannister spoke again. “I believe we lost each other at the top of the Wall” he said.

“You were pissing off the edge if I remember right.” Jon said

The Imp turned to Ser Davos. “I’m Tyrion Lannister.” They exchanged some sympathies before Arya decided to step forward. She was behind Jon so when she stepped forth he got a good look at her for the first time.

“I’m-”

“Arya Stark… who would have thought. The last I heard you went missing after your father’s imprisonment. Presumed dead”

“Well, I suppose your family didn’t look hard enough.”

“Obviously not. I’m glad for you they didn’t.” Arya didn’t know if this man was trustworthy, he betrayed his family, and his last name was still Lannister. Still, she gave him a small nod with a faint smile on her lips.

“Welcome to Dragonstone, our queen knows this is a long journey, she appreciates the effort you have made on her behalf. If you wouldn’t mind handing over your weapons.” The woman who spoke was called Missandey, apparently, she was the queen’s most trusted advisor.

Jon turned to Arya, acknowledged the no she displayed with the slow shake of her head, and turned back with a smile. “Of course,” he said right before starting unfastening Longclaw.

When a man she assumed was a Dothraki came her way to take Needle, she walked forth, before Jon. “Why would we do that?”

Tyrion turned to this Missandey before turning back to Arya. “Well, our Queen and her advisors think that, as our guests and as a show of goodwill, it would show your good intentions that you come before her unarmed”.

“Are her men unarmed?”

“Well,” he chuckled “of course they are not, to protect our Queen.”

“And we are not aloud to protect ourselves?” Arya saw the uncomfortable expression on Tyrion’s face, and it was too sweet.

Her attention was suddenly taken by her brother behind her. “Arya, come on, it’s alright. Give him your sword, you’ll get it back.”

She frowned, was he acting or actually stupid? “No, I won’t.”

“Arya.” His voice was raising again, so kingly he sounded. He sighed, he seemed to try and get a hold on his anger. “Arya” his voice was softer. “It is the proper thing to do, it’s just how it is, don’t overreact.”

“I’m not a proper lady, and I’m not overreacting, I won’t hand over Needle, you can give them Longclaw, go on. But I won’t give Needle.” After she was done talking, Jon finished unfastening Longclaw and handed it to a savage, all the while looking her right in the eyes.

Her attention was snatched back to the Imp when he decided to speak again. “Needle?”

Jon answered for her. “Her sword.”

Arya sighed, she will not get what she wants through violence. “My lord, I know it might be an inconvenience to you but, I find myself being quite attached to my blade.” 

“May I see it?” Arya unsheathed Needle and handed it to him. She watched attentively how he examined it.

“I understand how me keeping Needle seems disrespectful, but I think it could be a gesture of goodwill from your Queen to let me keep it, on me.” Tyrion touched the side of the blade, seeing it was not sharp, he handed it back.

“Of course, my lady.” Arya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She didn’t expect it to be so easy. “Our Queen is very a generous one, knowing how attached to your sword you are, she’ll understand and allow you to keep it, on you.”

Arya smiled gratefully, she attentively turned to Jon and saw a frown between his brows. “What a generous Queen.” She told him with a chuckle.

“Please, this way” Missandey said

“Aye, how generous.” With that her brother walked passed her with the frown remaining on his face.

Jon walked next to the Imp and they seemed to have some kind of discussion. Arya caught up with Davos, who was a few feet behind his king. “Is he angry with me? I don’t believe I was too improper with them, I used pretty words.” She asked her brother’s advisor.

“Well my lady, it did seem like you were undermining his authority before a dangerous ally or enemy. He is King, and supposed to be obeyed.”

“But-”

“Even by his sister.” She couldn’t argue with that. Did she make Jon look like a weak King? That was not going to happen again.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

Arya walked in front of Davos, she was directly behind the Imp and Jon, she was now able to hear what they were saying as they walked up the narrow but seemingly infinite way to the gigantic castle.

“And Sansa? I hear she is alive and well.” Tyrion said

“She is.” Jon said.

The Imp was about to say something else but Arya was quicker. “You married her right.?”

Tyrion turned around as they continued to walk. “A sham marriage, and unconsummated.”

Arya chuckled. After seeing the question on the Imp’s face, she deemed all right to go on. “My lord, pardon me but I just now remember a play I once saw in Braavos.” Jon and the Imp’s questioning look remained so she continued. “It explained what happened back in Westeros. You were represented in it too my lord.”

“How very lucky for me.” Tyrion said with a smile with which he certainly wished to end the matter, but she was not finished.

“After my father’s beheading in said play, you walked in and said: ‘Worry not, all is well’ you had just been named hand of the king by your father you see. Then you said: ‘He’s given me permission to take…Sansa as my wife’ while you put her hand over your cock on your pants.” Both the King and the Imp were silent. “‘You’ll learn that what I lack in height, I make up for in appetite’ was what you said right before ripping the front of her dress open. I still remember vividly the actress’ tits bouncing around. As the actor impersonating you guided my sister out of the scene he said: ‘So let’s go rehearse our wedding night.’ But they probably exaggerated the entire matter.” She laughed again. “You were presented as the villain. If I recall it right, your last words were: ‘Don’t fear Winter come, fear me!’” 

Both the King and Tyrion were still silent. Though both looked at her. Where Jon’s eyes seemed to show some kind of pity, as if she’d been traumatized or something, the Imp’s were visibly trying to read her, to learn what her intentions were. That was her Job not his.

“But thankfully, it was just a stupid play. You should know, I admire you very much my lord, you killed your father and Joffrey, they were both on my list. I believe Cersei would like to see you dead, that makes you even more appealing to me.” She said with a grand smile.

“Thank you, Lady Arya, I think.” He seemed to try and process some things, he was the first who didn’t ask her about her list.

“I think-” Jon started, but was interrupted by an enormous dragon flying right overhead them. He was so close, his feet or whatever they were called, nearly grazed her.

Arya was mesmerised, he was as big as a large whale, and he was flying! His scales were black, shadowing red ones, his wings were as large as the sails of and enormous ship. As he flew further away he made a snarling noise that was music to her ears. When Arya saw this animal she could only remember from books, she saw power, grace, fearlessness. “Beautiful.” She whispered to no one in particular. 

It was when she managed to shake out of her trance that she realised, all northmen she had come with, including her dear brother, had jumped to the ground. How very brave of them.

She held out her hand to her brother as Tyrion helped Davos up. “Afraid dear brother?” She asked when he got to his feet.

“You certainly weren’t, if I recall it right, I heard you say ‘beautiful’ as Drogon flew away.”

Jon made a face which signalled his incomprehension. “Drogon.” Arya whispered dreamily as she looked back at the dragon who had joined two others, circling over the castle.

She didn’t see, but she felt Tyrion smile softly behind her. Maybe she looked like an astonished little child, she definitely felt like it. “Come, their mother’s waiting for you.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, school started again so I won't have as much time for writing, though I'll try my best to update once a week or so.


	6. How the Wolf meets the Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Arya meet Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people,  
> so there have been quiet a few kind of negative comments on the 6th chapter, so I decided to re-read it.  
> I've realised that there were actually many things where I had to agree with the comments, Arya wasn't quite right... Now maybe it was because I updated it at 2 a.m or idk. But I realised there were many flaws in what I wrote. I decided to write it again, some things stayed the same and some changed.   
> P.S I added a little Jon Arya at the end  
> I hope you like this one better, I do.  
> Tell what you think about it in the comments and leave kudos. <3 <3 <3  
> Enjoy.

Jon

 

The hall was enormous, the ceiling, so high above their heads that it was difficult to see it, the room was dark, very dark. You would be forgiven to think it depressing, but Jon knew better, he knew it was built by the Targaryen’s of old Valyria, it was meant to be intimidating. He was taken from his thoughts when this Missandei who was now next to her queen and facing him spoke.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.” Were her words. Though he barely paid mind to the titles meant to intimidate him even more than the room itself. His eyes were fixed on the woman who sat on the throne which seemed to be made of rocks, her hair was of a silvery white, her eyes were purple and in them there was a determination he could only ever find in Arya, she was wearing a more military gown than he would have thought, surely meant to inspire strength. She was undeniably beautiful, though he could pay little mind to that, considering the circumstances.

There was a moment of silence, Jon was about to turn his head to Davos to present who he was, but Arya was quicker as she stepped forward. “This is Jon snow, the Bastard of Winterfell, son of Eddard of the house Stark, the reborn, former Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, friend of the Free Folk, the White wolf, and the King in the North. And I’m his sister, Arya Stark of Winterfell.” He managed not to flinch at the word bastard like he used to do, he didn’t flinch anymore. Though this time, as Arya said it, it wasn’t an insult, the way his sister said it, made it sound powerful. He nearly laughed when she said ‘the reborn’. If he didn’t know it was his invented titles Arya was reciting, he’d take the man for something god-like.

He saw the Dragon Queen lift an eyebrow, before smiling to herself. “Thank you for traveling so far my Lord, I hope the Seas weren’t too rough.” Those were the first words he heard from this Queen. Her voice sounded somewhat like a command, but at the same time it was somewhat kind. Everything about this first meeting was supposed to intimidate him, though it did not.

“The winds were kind your Grace.” But when he was finished, Davos stepped forth.

“Pardon your grace but, Jon snow is the King in the North, not some Lord.” He still wasn’t used to being _king_. All he wanted was to protect his home and its people, _the North._ He did not choose to become _King_ , but he had to admit it was a welcomed change to have the people finally listen to him and be respected.

“Forgive me…” The Dragon Queen started.

“Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth.” Tyrion said.

“Forgive me, Ser Davos, I never did receive a formal education…but I could have sworn I read that the last king in the North was Torrhen Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen.”

Jon gave Arya a quick glance to make sure she wouldn’t tell the Queen what he so much screamed in his head, when she looked at him, her grey eyes seemed stormy, like she would lash out at a moment’s notice, but the rest of her was… _calm_ , her entire body seemed… _at ease_. He couldn’t read her thoughts, _why couldn’t he read her thoughts?_ He used to just need to look at her and be able to tell exactly what she was thinking and what she would be doing, but now, he couldn’t understand how she would react, _he didn’t know_.

“In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark bent the knee and swore fealty to house Targaryen in perpetuity.”

He decided not to correct this Queen, it wouldn’t do to tell the mother of dragons she was wrong, simply to put his mind at ease, it wouldn’t do any good. He looked back to Arya, she didn’t look at him, her stare was fixed on this Queen, her face was still unreadable except for her eyes. Suddenly her eyes shot to him, guilt flooded his heart, a painful guilt hovered on his heart. He couldn’t stand it, had to do something against those hurting, grey, stormy eyes. So, he did.

“Forgive me, your grace, but I believe you were misinformed, actually, my brother, Robb Stark, was the last King in the North before me.” Jon said as he looked up to her throne to meet her stare.

The Dragon Queen’s purple eyes shot to Tyrion, in a way that probably demanded to know why she had her facts wrong and was put in this position. When he turned his head to steal a glance at Arya, she had a satisfied, soft smile on her lips, that was but too sweet to his heart. The corners of his mouth lifted up just enough to let her see his smile before he guided his eyes back to the Dragon Queen.

Daenerys Targaryen also smiled, but this was a controlled smile with her lips very much sealed. “But still, an oath is an oath.” She said, she granted Arya a quick glance before turning back to Jon. “I assume, my Lord, you are here to bend the knee.”

After a moment he spoke. “I am not.”

“Oh” She said. “Well that is unfortunate. You’ve travelled all this way to break faith with house Targaryen?” Jon heard his sister’s mute chuckle though it was probably only in his head before he said what they were probably both thinking.

“Break faith? Your father burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the seven Kingdoms.”

“My father, was an evil man.” _That was unexpected, I thought her entire claim rested on her father’s name_. “On behalf of house Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father.”  He turned his eyes to Arya but her face was stern, she was looking around the hall. “Our houses have been allies for centuries, and those were the best centuries the seven Kingdoms have ever know, with a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark as warden of the north. Honour the pledge your ancestors made to mine, and bend the knee, and I will name you warden of the North.” She seemed determined, but he was also determined.

“You’re right, you’re not guilty of your father’s crimes-” a small smile appeared on her lips, which made it harder to go on. “and I’m not beholden to my ancestor’s vows.” The smile disappeared as quick as it had come, a shame.

“Then why are you here” Her tone was cold as ice, surprising for the Mother of Dragons. Before he could answer this Queen’s eyes shot to Arya with what seemed to be determination. “Why are you here, you haven’t said a word except presenting you and your brother, now tell me, _why are you here_?” the Mother of Dragons voice was rather threatening, though Arya didn’t so much as flinch, her face was as stern as it had been a minute ago, but her eyes were looking straight into those of the Queen.

“Because we need your help, and you need ours.” She simply said.

Daenerys smiled at Arya, but Jon didn’t like the way she smiled, she was mocking his little sister.

“Did you see three Dragons flying overhead when you arrived?” Her look could be compared to a death stare, Arya’s remained hard for half a second before they suddenly softened and her eyes lit up.

“I did” Her voice was dreamy and her smile true. “They are beautiful and I have to admit I have always wanted one of my one, and you have all three.” She said while a chuckle escaped.

The Queen seemed confused and taken aback for a moment, she must have been used to people being scared of her Dragons, but Arya found them to be beautiful. It was amusing to see this Queen confused, considering she seemed to be quite self-confident and dead set on achieving her goal, the Iron Throne. But she continued. “And have you seen the Dothraki? All of whom have sworn to kill for me.”

“I am seeing them right now your Grace.” Arya said pointing to the savages at the Queen’s side with another chuckle. “They must be quite good warriors I would think.” She said, with what seemed to be true interest.

The queen seemed to smile at Arya’s youthful comments, but after a second, she hardened up again. “But still, I need your help?”

Arya turned to Jon, waiting for him to answer. “Not to defeat Cersei, you could storm King’s Landing Today and the city would fall, but you haven’t, the only reason I see is that you don’t want to kill thousands of innocent lives. Which means that at least, you’re better than Cersei.” The Queen was listening, so he went on, she seemed to be a good person, she needed to understand and not take him for a madman. He breathed in before continuing. “We need each other’s help, to defeat the night King, the dead are the enemy, and they are marching south, I have seen them, I have fought them, they will end both our rules if we don’t stand together, if we’re here squabbling amongst ourselves when they come, we _will_ die. Winter is coming, and the dead come with it.” He sounded mad. She will think him a madman but the Mother of Dragons had to understand what was coming for all of them.

The Dragon queen studied him, then turned to Arya and studied her. She turned back to Jon when she spoke. “I was born at Dragonstone, not that I can remember it.” She stood up from the rock that served as a throne and started walking towards them. “We fled before Robert’s assassins could find us. Robert, was your father’s best friend no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib.” She was halfway between him and her throne now. He could feel Arya’s heavy and expecting eyes on him, and decided to say nothing.

“Not that it matters now of course.” Her face was solemn as she went on with the walk down the steps to get to Jon’s position. “I spent my life in foreign lands, so many men have tried to kill me, I don’t remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare, I have been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing all these years in exile? Faith, not in any gods, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn’t seen a Dragon in centuries until my children were born.” She was getting closer with every step, and every step she came closer, Jon understood how she managed to get where she was now, she inspired loyalty. “The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the narrow see or any sea, they did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will.” He could understand why all her supporters believed what she told them. She was threateningly close to him now, she was shorter than he was, yet somehow, she still seemed to have an upper hand.

“You’d be ruling over a graveyard if we don’t defeat the night king.” Jon would have felt the tension in her face if he didn’t see it. He also saw, from the corner of his eye, how Arya walked closer to Davos and whispered something in his ear.

Tyrion decided it was the right moment to come closer to where the both of them were standing. “The war against my sister has already begun, you can’t expect us to hold hostilities and join you to fight…. whatever it is you saw beyond the wall.”

“You don’t believe him, I get it” This was Davos speaking. “It sounds like nonsense, but this Lady’s brother” He said while pointing to Arya. “Left for the Wall as a bastard with nothing to inherit 6 years ago, when she next saw him he had become the fucking King in the North. He was chosen as Lord Commander of the night’s watch, he was the first to make allies of wildlings. All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader, not because of his damned title, he had none, they chose him because they knew that when the dead come, he is the one who can lead them through the long night. Make no mistake, the white walkers are real, your Grace, and they don’t care if we’re Stark, Targaryen or even Lannister. If when they come we are not ready to fight them together, we will all die and come back as monsters.

The Targaryen considered Davos for a moment, she then lay her eyes back on Jon’s figure. “We can be united to fight against whatever there is north of the Wall” He got some hope, maybe they wouldn’t all die after all. “after you bend the knee and I sit on the Iron Throne, until then, you and your half-sister and every northerner there is, are my enemy to the North.” Or maybe they would all die.

He was about to speak when a bald man came in jogging, he whispered something into the queen’s ear but Jon could not understand what happened reading that Targaryen’s face. His attention snapped back to Arya when she nearly chocked on her words. “The spider!”

“Arya Stark.” The bald man answered with an equal, yet more controlled stupefaction.

The Dragon Queen acknowledged this clear familiarity before she said “You must forgive my manners, you three must be tired after your long journey, we’ll have baths drawn for you and suppers sent to your rooms.” Dismissing them. She walked back towards her throne.

Jon stepped forward. “Are we your prisoners?” His sister’s hand was tight around her needle, what was she thinking she could possibly do about those savages, stupid.

“Not yet.” The mother of Dragons answered.

He thought the matter done but his sister must have thought otherwise, as he knew she would. “If we ever become your prisoners, you’ll have to painfully find out I do not make a good hostage, many have had to find out at the expense of their lives.” That was dangerous, what was she thinking she was doing?

“Is that a threat, my lady? You have to know I don’t do well with threats and demands. Perhaps you yourself will have find out at your own cost, like many before you.”

Arya chuckled, and Jon could feel the sweat cool down his spine. “Not a threat, your Grace. Just a friendly warning, to prevent any hurt that might come from a bad decision.”

The Queen smiled. “I thank you for your wise counsel, Lady Arya. I’ll take it under advisement.” Then, they were escorted out.

Jon could not decide how he felt about this Dragon Queen, and could not manage to read what she would do. What he knew, was that she was dangerous.

 

************************

 

He had supper with Arya later that evening, they had both taken a bath and were cleaner than they had been in 2 weeks. They ate quietly, though what was a comfortable silence to him in the beginning, quickly became…an awkward one.

“I’m going to find Tyrion in the morrow to try and persuade him to help us, I think he is likely to listen to what I have to say. He’s the Dragon Queen’s hand, she’ll listen to him if not to me.” She didn’t answer. “Don’t you want to honour me with your opinion?” He asked jokingly. “You sure seemed to have quite a lot of that not so long ago.” She still didn’t answer. She was beginning to be quite rude and he was to tired to deal with it. “Arya!”

“You didn’t defend him. Why did you let her speak about him like that?” Her voice was quiet, not like it used to be, it was also accusing, another thing he wasn’t used to.

“What?”

“You let this Dragon bitch talk about father like he was a monster and didn’t do anything about it!” She was louder now. “She was staining his memory, everything he stood for was dragged through the dirt and you didn’t say a thing!”

“What was I supposed to do? Insult her in her own castle, encircled by Dothraki screamers and 3 DRAGONS?” Arya was looking at her kidney pie. He sighed. “Look, I know you miss him very much, so do I. But as long as both of us know the truth of who Eddard Stark was, does what everyone else think really matter?”

Arya sighed, she was probably also tired. “I suppose it doesn’t.” She said with a sad smile. “Maybe _I_ could try and talk to the Lannister?”

He laughed out loud, at which she also did. “Yeah, right, and if he doesn’t listen-”

“I’ll stick-em with the pointy end.” She finished with her mouth full of pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think next chapter is going to be out like sunday or next monday.  
> Leave comments and kudos, it really helps <3


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